By Practicerestraint

Six months later

The sheriff was smiling as he drove down the road, singing along to the loud music pouring out of the speakers in his truck.  He glanced at the time on the vintage Omega chronograph on his left wrist and smiled as he recalled his Pet asking him to wear it today.  It had been Pet’s favorite watch before he became the sheriff’s captive/slave and Pet had confessed he loved seeing it on his master’s wrist.  The sheriff sped up a bit, feeling a thrill from his Pet’s devotion, eager to get to his destination and then back home.

The sheriff had been planning this day for several years.  After he became involved with the Facility, he realized that he would be able to achieve a dream.  First, running interference for the Facility and keeping legal eyes away from their activities had been lucrative and made early retirement possible.  Second, part of his compensation included the acquisition of his Pet.  And more . . . .

Slowing to take a turn onto a gravel road, the sheriff thought of Pet’s progress.  He hadn’t had to use the shock collar for more than two months, and Pet now wore a metal collar like the ones the Facility’s slaves wore.  Pet had the earned the privilege of coming upstairs on occasion and spending the night chained to the sheriff’s bed.  The sheriff smirked as he thought of what Pet had been willing to do to earn that privilege.

The sheriff stopped and put his truck in park.  He jumped out and rolled the tarp back that had covered the bed of the truck.  He turned and walked towards the mine that the Facility maintained.

Two guards came out with the slave they had received the same day the sheriff had received Pet.  The sheriff didn’t recall his name and didn’t care.  He planned on calling this one Trog.  He’d had the guards work Trog hard, and the cords of muscle, long hair, and heavy body hair made him look wild and the perfect target for abuse.  Looking at Trog, naked except for a collar, wrist shackles, and a crude metal chastity device, the sheriff’s cock hardened as he imagined Trog at the facility and chained to the wheel of pain.  He’d ask Charley to set the resistance on 2, and then treat Trog to a cat of nine tails until the wheel moved.

When the guards stopped and made Trog do a rotation for inspection, the sheriff saw the whip marks on Trog’s back and felt more blood rush to his crotch.

The guards handed a file to the sheriff, and he scanned it briefly before tossing it behind his seat in the cab.  He knew its contents:  the guards had not only worked Trog physically, they had trained him to be a urinal, to endure long, hard and multiple penetrations, and to eat unsavory food from a bowl, the ground or the top of a boot.

The sheriff unlocked the cage he had in the back in the truck, and the guards directed Trog into it.  The sheriff closed the door to the cage.  He started to recover the cage with the tarp but stopped.  He turned to the guards and asked for the key to Trog’s collar.  He reached in and unlocked the collar and handed it to the guards.  He then grabbed a collar in the bed of the truck and put it around Trog’s neck.  Trog looked up briefly and then back down as the collar closed and the lock clicked.

The sheriff jumped into the truck and smiled and pulled away from the mine.  He had one more stop to make before heading home.  As he drove over the gravel road, he made sure to hit a few potholes and bumps to let Trog know he was cargo and not a passenger.

An hour later, he pulled off a country road that led to the Facility.  He pulled up to the front building and hopped out.  As he opened the passenger door, the front door of the Facility opened and the sheriff recognized Chris, followed by slave 502.  The sheriff had seen 502 in multiple photos and videos that Chris had provided.  As requested, Chris had 502 dressed in a orange jumpsuit and bound in leg irons and handcuffs attached to a belly chain.  A gag completed 502’s ensemble.  The sheriff wanted a quiet ride home.

The sheriff talked with Chris while he loaded 502 into the passenger’s seat and buckled him in.  The sheriff glanced at 502’s neck and confirmed that the collar there was identical to the one on Pet and the one he had locked onto Trog.  He shook his head, knitting his brows at the thought that he didn’t need slaves fighting over what kind of collars each wore.

The sheriff slammed the door shut and locked it while he turned to Chris.

“Thanks for all your efforts.  I appreciate you training him to perform domestic duties and developing the appropriate submissiveness.  I look forward to having him at the house.”

“My pleasure.  The Facility appreciates all your efforts on our part,” Chris replied as he handed the key to 502’s collar and chastity device to the sheriff and then shook the sheriff’s hand.  The sheriff gripped Chris’ hand tightly, nodded and smiled, and then turned to make the trip home.

He paused on the driver’s side of the truck and added, “See you soon.  I’m looking forward to bringing the trio here and having some fun.”

The sheriff jumped into the truck, revved the engine, and waved at Chris as he drove off.  He paid attention to his driving until he was on the main road again.  He then turned to 502.

“I’m not into numbered slaves.  You’re going to be Slave, period.  Understand?”

Slave nodded quickly.  Chris had shared some videos of the sheriff’s fun with Pet, and Slave was afraid of the man.

The sheriff turned on the music, cranked it up a bit, and slipped back to enjoy the ride.  He had a lot to look forward to.  He’d realized long ago that he needed three slaves to meet his needs.  He’d been able to farm out the training of two of them while he focused on Pet.  There would be some adjustments to make, no doubt, but that was going to be fun, too.   He reflected on his plans for the three specimens . . . .

He’d continue to keep Pet a prisoner in the basement, unsure of when his master would appear and of what his master would require.  Slave would make care of Pet easier; Slave could take meals downstairs and join Pet for workouts.  The sheriff was going to enjoy watching the two shower and . . . entertain him.   His smile broadened at the prospect of making the two compete:  a good bootlicking contest would be a start.  His smiled widened further as he thought of the punishment for the loser.

Trog would be his workhorse.  There was an oversized doghouse and a chain sunken into concrete at one end and with a heavy padlock at the end.  The chain would allow Trog to work in the backyard and improve the landscaping.  Slave could feed and water Trog, although he’d have to make sure Trog was a tame beast around Slave.  He had a long list of chores for Trog, actually, and numerous severe implements he wanted to use to encourage Trog to complete them efficiently.

Slave could take over the cooking and cleaning and learn how to make his master’s life easier.  He liked the look of fear he saw in Slave’s eyes, and he would work hard to keep that look in the eyes of all three.  He would also make them work hard for the opportunity to escape chastity and leave them exhausted afterwards.

Oh, and when he brought them to a visit to the Facility.  The boys may hate it, but patrons would love it . . . .

The end

Metal would like to thank Practicerestraint for this story!